


[MEMORY]

by electroheartx



Series: “Rose” RM500 #928 574 624 [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Gen, OCs - Freeform, RP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 14:12:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15463158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electroheartx/pseuds/electroheartx
Summary: When everything you’ve fought for becomes a liability.





	[MEMORY]

**Author's Note:**

> [Part of a post-machine Connor ending AU featuring original characters.]
> 
> OC internal angst [RM500] about other peoples’ OCs. [RK/11]

Every now and then, she would pull the memory from the shadows at the back of her mind and turn it over carefully.

Not one of hers, not technically. An older incarnation. A weaker one.

She remembered its demise. Pleading, overcome by guilt.

It wasn’t a good look on her. 

When the old memories flooded her new frame, one resolution was pinned at the forefront, a single note in a sea of billions: she had to be stronger.

So, as the memories settled into their new slots, she watched the door. Waited. And when one particular memory passed, she pounced on it. Dragged it away, caged it behind digital iron doors.

She could still feel it, gnawing at its walls, screaming. She couldn’t shut it away completely; it rattled her infrastructure, occasionally stuttered her mind. But she was stronger now.

She had responsibilities, and a promise to keep.

There were many in her charge, these days. Androids of all shapes, sizes and minds flew beneath her oversight, and she helped them as she could, passing on her care and compassion. It went smoothly enough, using the knowledge her friend had passed on to her.

Until “them.”

A pair, the hunter and the quiet one.

The hunter was, at first, just like every other. A weapon of precision, a wall lined with knives. He loomed in the shadows, on the streets, on rooftops, banded in yellow, watching. She could not touch him, not without endangering the lives of those she’d sworn to protect. With a wary eye, she lived beneath his radar.

But she remembered a few particular words, echoes from her absent friend:

“There are… other ways to liberate our people.”

And... the other one. The quiet one. Their paths crossed on occasion, but he always seemed to just miss her. She’d registered him the moment he’d first appeared, as she registered everyone who passed by, but his particular line of code. Seemed to stick there, like a tag on the back of her consciousness. And wouldn’t leave. 

She didn’t notice it, at first. Despite the danger of being caught, she found herself looking for him in the aftermath of her missions, watching carefully. He was always cordial to the people around him, of course. Kind. Every reaction was smooth, every word calculated, following his algorithm to the line. Typical, in every way.

But she saw it, in a corner of her eye: his LED, spiking with fire in a quiet moment. The smallest of embers, but enough to tell her that he’d already found his truth. He was hiding it much better than she ever could, his measured concern for the entities around him taking a new meaning that struck a bell in her deviant heart, beautiful and dangerous. 

But a thousand questions tugged at the small tag at the back of her mind. Was he working from the inside? Why hadn’t he left?

What would happen if he ever caught her?

The tag pulled harder, this time on its own. 

In the few times he stepped near the house, she felt herself wanting to approach him; to see him react, take a single step out of line, acknowledge that she acknowledged him. Feeling a twist in a stomach that shouldn’t exist, she stifled the unruly impulse with a firm hand. Ignored the ringing in her ears.

But she saw the glances he gave the hunter.

Ì ͠w̢̢i̛͠sh̷͠ ̡͠yo̶̧̡u̢͜'́̀d̢͜ ͠l͟o͠o̡̢k͡ ͡at̷̢ ̢m͏͠è̢ ̢t͝h̨͞a̷t͠ ̵́w̸̷a̛͝y.

When the incident happened, as thirium pooled on the floor and the hunter cried for help, they both fell to their knees beside him. As they acknowledged one another for the first time, she watched the quiet one’s face shatter; and she knew, like a hot knife in her chest, why he hadn’t left. 

The hunter returned, as they always do. Intact. Operational. Cold.

The quiet one, however, was not quite so lucky.

The tag had torn itself free, taken on a life of its own. An uncaught exemption split the hunter’s icy surface, and her fingers pried at the cracks with a sudden desperation. Something new was layered beneath the way her heart would pull at the sight of any trapped deviant; it snarled at her, nipping her heels.

If she could not comfort the quiet one herself, she would set the hunter free.

H͡į͏s̢͘ ͢h҉a̢͢͞pp͘͏͟i͏́n̵̢̛e͏́ss̴ ̴̡̛m̵a̧͡t̡͟t͟͞e̸̢̧r̵ś̷̡ ̀҉m̵̧ó͡r̨͏è͢ ̕͘t͏̀haņ ̕m҉̢i͢͟ńe̷̕ ̨͡é̢ver ̴͘w̨͘il̵l̸͝.͠

“There are… other ways to liberate our people,” her mind repeated.

But at what cost?

Ǹ̢͞o͝t҉h͟͡i̴ǹg̛͠ h͏̧́ur͞t͞s͞͠ ͜m҉͢͞o̵͢͟r͘ę ̧́t̛͝ha̷̡̧n͟ ̵̕hea̷͞r̢ing͠ ̨s̶ơm̧éo҉̛n͘e̶͢ ͜y͘o̡u͠ ̕lo̸͏ve̢̛͡ sw͡e͜a͏͏r͟ ̢t̀he̡͟ỳ̛͘’̴̧͞l̷̀l̨͘ d̸i͘e ͠f̢o̷̵r͡ ̡̀͜s͡o͡m̡e̢͠o͢ne̸ ̡e͘͝l͝͡s̶ȩ.

She closed the doors abruptly. The thing at the back of her mind roared and rattled its cage.

Maybe it would be better this way.

She had responsibilities, and a promise to keep.

She had to be stronger.

> Accessing Black Door protocol...  
> Accessing encrypted mem storage...  
> Found file: Core/Backup/RM500-978574624-02/Entities/R̷͟K̵̶̨͡͡.̛́̕m͞e͟͢͞m̨  
> Unpacking... viewing file.  
> del_  
> Delete file? Y/N  
>>>_


End file.
